Baby It's Cold Outside
by RchHghr
Summary: Amarant just doesn't understand the meaning of company. On a cold winter night Amarant invite Freya to accompany him for a little night adventure, but to keep her there he'll have to learn a little about opening up.


Objective: I do not own anything. All belong to their owner. Merry Christmas!

I hear the heavy footfalls travel down the hall. No one should be awake right now at this late hour, and after the enduring fight we just encountered, it should be very quiet. I know very clearly that it isn't the Night Inn Keeper because, judging by the look on his face, he appeared very afraid of this group of ragtags. I don't blame him. This diverse group includes thieves and stowaways. Not many people see past the façade that defines someone very clearly.

The fear is a good thing for this group as well. With the snow falling outside, and our weary travels, we'll be left alone to rest up and be on our way. I know it will be a short stay, but some short stays are long enough for trouble to find us.

The footsteps stop in front of my door. They hesitate. I can see them from the light a candle produces in the hall.

Then, the doorknob turns and the door opens slowly-with no noise what-so-ever. Amarant. He stands in my doorway, but I also stand in the doorway with my pike in his face. He may think he is slick, but I am much faster than his heavy form.

"Has it ever occurred to you that opening the door to a ladies room is very, very rude?"

He puffs a lock of hair out of his face. "No," he says dully. The hair lock falls right back in his face.

"Nothing must get up there with all that hair on your head. What do you want at this late hour?" Only now do I realize that Eiko is curled up in my bed with the blanket clutched in her grip. When did she get in here and how could I have not noticed?

"Come out with me," he says turning away to head back down the hall.

"Wait," I call out, and he stops. He doesn't turn around.

"Don't you want to rest?" I question, "It has been a rough few days."

"I'll rest when I'm dead. I don't want to be near the whining all night. Let's go find a pub."

My eyebrows must shoot into my forehead. He can't see it. "What can my company do to enhance your night? If you have any ideas, I will slam my door in your face and return to bed."

Now he turns around. "You cannot get into my head, or shift the thoughts in it. Just your company; don't annoy me too much."

"What a pleasing notion to make me want to join you," I muse. I tap the butt of my pike onto the floor.

He smiles with lots of teeth. His lip is swollen. I know, even from this distance his dry lip is split open. "I'll wait for you in the front. I'll even buy you a drink, or many."

"I would not join you otherwise," I throw to his retreating form. I close the door. The young girl still sleeps. Her injuries, which have healed quite nicely, aren't enough for me to let her be alone for the time I am out. I'll leave her with the Princess.

I quickly dress. I will not bring coins with me. Whatever happens will be on his head. I'm sure, if it comes to him getting his fingers cut off, I'd enough it quite a bit.

With my weapon secure, I scoop the sleeping girl into my arms. The Princess sleeps with Steiner asleep on the floor against the wall. He will do anything to protect her, and that's why I have so much respect for him.

I put her on the bed, and she sleeps on her back. She doesn't stir, and she isn't cold. I feel a draft, but it isn't disturbing anyone else. The snow outside the window makes me feel more the chillier. I was never one for snow. The rain is fine; my home, is where I've adapted since I was small. The rain isn't cold there, and it isn't slippery on every hard surface like ice is under snow.

Amarant stands in the front watching the Night Inn Keeper sleep. I guess his job is done once the moon is completely in the sky. Now, anyone can walk right in and cause mischief and dangers; especially somebody who is looking for us.

I approach and stand behind him. "Enjoying a show?" I question.

"He's afraid of me." He says this with no thought, and no lingering questions. He states it like fact.

"Well, with a face like that," I trail because he smiles again with teeth. "Admit it, you're afraid of me sometimes too."

"I am not!" I huff. "You're unbelievable, and very full of yourself. If I had fear for you what kind of warrior would I be considered?" I  
"You don't want to wake our friend over there," He says in a low, deep voice. His shoulders scrunch.

"You're the one boring attention into him. You're the one eager to leave, and yet you linger."

"I'd offer my arm, but clearly you're a lady not to be reckoning with."

"I'd only offer my hand to one, and it's not you."

"Yet, you've accepted my offer to accompany me."

My eyes drop to the floor. He is just messing with my head. A mind game. I know myself very well, and I will not fall for anything he says. He is not someone I would choose willingly.

I quickly pick up my head. I have no shame to feel. "Just someone to share drinks and conversation with. I hope you can hold your own, and even provide some wit."

He doesn't have an answer to that. He secures the bandage on his arm and into the night we go.

The snow falls gently. Many soft flakes float through the air. The world looks like a giant snow globe someone has just shaken up. The air is fresh, and brisk. I can see for many miles. Only the fog lingers in long distant mountains. It is nowhere near where we are heading.

It's beautiful, yes, but my foot has already slipped on hidden ice. Walking in this for too long, my thoughts linger to admiring it from a distance.

His demeanor doesn't change. His breath shows visible in the night air. My breath shows too, but not as aggressively.

He doesn't make small talk anymore, and I am grateful for that. I'm not one for small talk, and usually he isn't either. Either he's been hit in the head too hard, or there is something in the air. If he passes out, I am leaving him there to rot and be mugged.

The town is quiet. The spirit is dying down, and citizens seem to be dispersing, and quite a few head to the pub. A crowd is gathered there. The crowd doesn't look like the crowd you want to mess with, but then again, it wouldn't stop Amarant from getting what he wanted.

He walks ahead because I have stopped walking. I want to see his actions in motion, and he proves my point by walking right through the commotion and into the pub. I smirk. No matters what-so-ever, and he doesn't even care for the eyes of a man with a deep scowl that he has knocked over.

I follow through, and because I am much more petite I have a much more difficult time.

Inside a band plays. They sound really nice and soothing; a melody to accompany this snowy night. If I don't watch myself, I may find myself the one to be asleep on my seat, and be left behind to figure it all out when I awaken.

I find him on a stool at the bar. He sits hunched forward. I wonder if it's because he's so large, or because of a previous injury. He doesn't talk about himself, and no one has the gall to ask him about himself.

He probably wouldn't answer to anything about his past anyways. I don't believe the rumors I hear about him lingering in Treno. Some are so farfetched they couldn't possibly be true. Some make me laugh, and some make for great bedtime stories to scare little children who won't go to sleep at night.

I take a seat next to him. "Good thing this means nothing to either of us, otherwise I would be quite agitated that you left me out there in a very large crowd full of the rowdy and the loud."

"Glad you aren't, and clearly you know what to do with that weapon on your back. You are not a damsel in distress."

He doesn't even look at me. He sits hunched there, and the bartender brings him his drink. His eyes go to me. I order myself something, and add slyly, "on his tab of course."

He doesn't even give an indication. He made the offer, I just want him to know that he better hold to his word. He better not skip out on his word and give us, the whole group, a bad name. We don't need anymore trouble. He has so much to deal with already.

My eyes study him. His arm rests on the bar. The bandaged one. It hits me. Obviously, he is in pain. I guess he over-thought his confidence in going out when he should really be resting.

I smile. The bar keep puts my drink in front of me. I thank him with a smile. He starts to walk away, but I call back to him.

"What is going on here tonight?"

He looks at me oddly. "The Winter Holiday. First snow of the season means a lucky year." He walks away.

Amarant chuckles. "Obviously," he says.

"Not obviously," I counter back. "A gathering could mean so many things, and just because this local region celebrates a holiday doesn't mean all travelers know what it is. You had no idea, and can only say such a word because I asked the question. If you knew you weren't up for travel, why did you risk the walk through the snow?" The last part was supposed to be brought up gradually, but we're here and he isn't providing the company he expected from me.

He drinks from his drink. "Why do you think I am here? I am going to drink until I can't feel anything."

"It will be easy for you, you don't feel anyway." I drink from mine as well. It's a little strong, but I won't complain. In a way I can agree with him. I don't want to feel pain right now either.

Although, I'd much rather be under the covers with a fire roaring in the fireplace.

"You're right, it beats dissecting what others observe, and the millions of thoughts running through your head."

This peaks my attention. Me. This conversation wasn't with anyone flamboyantly in mind. I guess there really is reason for this little adventure.

"Me? My head? Since when has anything I've ever said become of any importance to you?"

"I can't read some of your expressions. I'm not saying of that one a few moments ago. That one was obvious. Quite a few are as a matter of fact. You make this face, and I have to do everything within me not to laugh."

Quite a lot is going on up there, but I can't say the same for you. You don't have many expressions. Annoyance, is one, but then that is it. I can't guess the number of thoughts going through your head. Sometimes I wonder if anything IS actually goes on."

He finishes the drink. Three guys in the opposite corner get rowdy. The band takes a break and drinks are served all around. A couple laughs, and someone falls off their stool.

Quite an amusing night.

"You make up these scenarios in your head, and sometimes I think you are crazy. We aren't dead yet, so they've mostly worked."

"Um, thanks." I muse. He orders another drink. He goes back into his own head. I finish my drink. I keep a straight face, but my head is filling with thoughts. I look around. I stand. "Maybe I should head back early. You need your own musings, and after a period of time you will have forgotten I am here."

Amarant grabs my hand and pulls me back onto the stool. "One drink isn't going to be enough to wash away the dread of the battle, and the whining and pain of our ragtag group." He orders me another drink.

"You going to provide me with that wit of yours?"

"Maybe after something clear. Not this stuff."

My glass is clear. My eyes narrow. "You expect me to provide the wit?"

He smirks showing those dazzling teeth of his. "On one occasion you have been known to be witty."

"And the other times, what am I?"

"Depends on the occasion. Sometimes you're stuffy-"

"If you think you are going to dissect me, incorrectly, I might add, I am leaving your side. I know this will end up a one-sided conversation without me returning it as blatently.

He runs a giant hand through his locks. They show me a glimpse of his face before they fall right back into the heap they are.

"I'd much rather get you riled up. You puff the tiny strands out of your face revealing blazing eyes of furry. It's cute."

I slide my drink to him. "You must be out of your head. You think you can rile me up, but I know your points as well. When you get annoyed, or frustrated you scrunch your shoulders forgetting to drop them back down. You end up with a kink in them, and it becomes apparent you agitate your neck because you spent the rest of the time, in that situation trying to shake it off."

He takes a sip and slides it back to me. I know he wants to make a face. The strong part isn't what gets him, but I know the sweetness does. Bitter taste for a bitter man. I drink the rest of it down.

The band starts up again. A slow song. People start to dance. Some even move the tables. The rowdy guys cat call to a woman who has a hood up. She pays them no mind. She sits in a deep corner. She is waiting for someone, I know that very clear.

She declines offers to dance. I would dance. I know I shouldn't, but if someone comes to call, I can enjoy a small moment that doesn't mean anything.

Amarant doesn't dance, and because he is with me, no one will ask me, and he'd frighten anyone away with just his face alone.

He lapse into his silence again and orders something clear. He drinks it quickly.

"I'm surprised you admitted to pain." I say, and he looks at me. I continue, "You don't admit to anything, even when you are getting cared for by doctors."

"If there's no poison or similar symptoms then what can they really do for you. That's why we have this." He takes my drink and drinks it. I watch him for signs of fatigue, but the only one he displays is battle fatigue.

My fatigue weighs on me. I look to my empty glass. If I have one more I can sleep. I don't want to sleep on the bar.

"I'd carry you back, and even tuck you in," he says as if he can read my thoughts. I guess this is one of those transfixed moments.

"Is this going back to our previous conversation? I don't know what you are expecting, but you are highly mistaken."

"I'm not expecting you to outlast me. I'm not expecting you to meet eyes with the man who has eyes for you across the room. I expect you to stay with me, and then sleep right there. You might even make unlady like sounds."

"I do no such thing!" I scoff.

"Tonight's a special night, maybe you will," he says sarcastically, "whatever this special day is."

"What happened to obvious?" I question. The drinks still come.

"All around us, their festivities don't matter to us. In a few days we'll be gone, and they wouldn't've known we weren't included in it all."

"You want to be included?" That would've never crossed my mind.

"No. I do not want associate myself with the likes of them. I don't want to make small talk with people I don't have to deal with otherwise. I'm not subjecting myself to the likes of their festivites and making a fool of myself."

"So if you can't beat them, why not join them? Mean anything to you?"

"I can beat anyone in this room."

"Wanna fight?"

We both turn our heads to the left to a man sitting one stool over from Amarant.

"If I can beat you, your woman spends the night with me."

"My woman can beat you herself. I have nothing to gain from you." He turns back into his hunch.

"As much as that amuses me, you look like you won't be needing her tonight. I can take care of her tonight."

"As much as that delights me," I say lamely, "regardless of whether fists are raised or not, I'm not interested."

"You have no say so in this. This is a deal between two men."

Amarant's claws slash across the man's face. Blood starts dripping and he runs out quickly.

Amarant tightens the bandage on his arm.

"Why did you hit him?"

"He annoyed me," he says, "I brought you here, I'm taking you home."

"Home? We're far from it."

"Where everyone else is," he says, "and you didn't deny it. Guess I get what I want anyway."

"I tried to leave," I smile, "but you wouldn't let me."

"It's cold outside."

He orders us something very warm, and though he gets very quiet his mind never fogs. My mind leaves millions of thoughts and soon enough I'm floating back through the night.


End file.
